How to be ...

Celebrity is a fickle beast, a fickle, sweaty beast that hangs invisibly on your back, urging you on with threats of poverty and unsold autobiography rights. You have achieved a great deal for someone the age you say you are, but there are markets still unconquered, launch parties yet to appear at in boob tube and blusher. At the end of another fabulous tax year, inspired by Le Bon, Ditto, Geldof, Moss, you plan Project Clothes. Genius. Everyone wears clothes! Apart from you, 1992-96, but body oil was really big back then. Designing the collection is easy - you empty your wardrobe into a room of knitters, and they re-imagine your look, but in stretch satin. Drape the beast on your back with fabric samples and ribbons of till receipts; feed it with canapés and nuggets of gossip. In 10 years' time, scavenging the charity shops of Weston-super-Mare, you'll come across your logo-ed leggings and weep a little, for celebrity, for Phillip, for the dream inherent in Lycra.